Mr.Gramz

[Intro]
(Thank you, J X L A N, I appreciate you)
Thank you so much, J X L A N, thank you, thank you
Yung Sak Runner

[Verse 1]
A thousand grams in this car, we ain't pullin' over
If I hit you with this F&N, rap career over
If you ain't givin' pussy or no head, you cannot come over
If a nigga get up in our way, we gon' knock him over (Knock him down)
I ain't even gotta use the Glock, put knots up on him (Yop)
Old tellin'-ass nigga, you put cops up on him
I'll give you twelve hundred dollars, you get the drop on him (Give you twelve hundred)
Fifty shots in this Glock, they won't stop comin'
My nigga fuckin' on that bitch, that is not your woman (That is not yours)
If two Dracs hit his whip, it's gon' stop his Hummer (Mmm)
All I do is shit talk, I am not mumblin'
He only flashin' five bands, that is not no money

[Chorus]
If she cheat, beat her ass, you is not wrong
Bro in the feds on FaceTime, he got an iPhone
Please don't touch that nigga YSR Gramz or your life gone
He ain't really like that, he make nice songs (Make nice music)
You need weed, hit my line like Mike Jones (Like Mike Jones)
I just jumped fresh as hell in these white Lows
In Oklahoma tryna hit for some iPhones
He let a nigga see his gun, now his strap gone

[Verse 2]
I ain't buy these guns for no reason, why would I fight that nigga? (Why would I do that?)
Type of nigga tell his bitch, "I never liked that nigga" (What the fuck?)
Type of nigga say "Free him," but never write that nigga (Lame-ass nigga)
Fap-fap-fap-fap, try to fight that, nigga (Fight that, fight that)
He think he off the drank, we put Nyquil in it (We put NyQuil)
I'm so high right now, I put five grams in it (Shit)
Nigga, you fell the fuck off like Anthony Bennett (Like Anthony)
Spent all your money on a freak, now your ass finished (Dummy)
They be booin' all your music like you Ben Simmons
Since a lil'-ass nigga, bitch, I been winnin' (I been him)
If I ain't got the FN, I got Drakey with me (I got Drakey with me)
I had to cut the plug off, he got janky with me
Like Icewear Vezzo, we'll paint the city (Paint the whole city)
That cheap-ass gun you got, we'll take your Smitty
Poured a three up in this pop, this is not no Henny
Rap nigga think he lit as hell, he signed a 360 (Signed a dumb-ass deal)

[Chorus]
If she cheat, beat her ass, you is not wrong
Bro in the feds on FaceTime, he got an iPhone
Please don't touch that nigga YSR Gramz or your life gone
He ain't really like that, he make nice songs
You need weed, hit my line like Mike Jones
I just jumped fresh as hell in these white Lows
In Oklahoma tryna hit for some iPhones
He let a nigga see his gun, now his strap gone